


Strong

by give-me-a-moose (quirky_turtle)



Series: Criminal Minds Tumblr Requests [11]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirky_turtle/pseuds/give-me-a-moose
Summary: Request: is it possible for an imagine where Reid and you are new in a relationship and he notices you have cutting scars? with lots and lots of fluff? Tysm -Anon
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: Criminal Minds Tumblr Requests [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1224191
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Strong

The night started off innocently enough. Just another movie night with your boyfriend after he got back from a case. That was until the third movie, when you two kissed. And kissed. And kissed. 

Now you were on your back on the couch, Spencer leaning over you. One hand was holding him up, the other had landed on your bent knee. You could feel his hand slowly moving up your bare thigh. After his fingertips brushed the slightly raised skin under your skirt, and his hand halted, alarms went off in your head. 

_ He felt them. _

_ He felt your scars. _

“Spencer, wait…” you looked up into his eyes. You could see the confusion and worry in them as he formed his probably correct hypothesis. 

He sat up and away from you. You followed suit, with your head down. Almost ashamed to look at him. Reading your body language, Spencer took you hand in his, and used his other to raise your chin. 

He looked at your face, seeing the unshed tears in them. 

“Hey,” his voice was soft, “We can talk about it if you want. Or we can wait for another time.” 

You released the breath you didn't know you were holding. There was no disgust or pity in his eyes. Not like some of the others. 

“They're old. I ha-haven’t done it in a while.” you hiccupped. He simply nodded to let you know he was listening. 

With a shuddering breath, you carefully lifted the hem of your skirt. Revealing the many faded, but visible scars on the outside of your thighs. They were long, but mostly white. Some from your younger years had almost faded into your skin tone. 

Spencer gently squeezed the hand he was still holding, but allowed you to continue to speak. After a minute's worth of silence, when you found that you had no other words to say, he spoke up.

“Why?” his voice was small, and you could almost hear the tears he didn't want to shed. 

“It was a time in my life, where I felt like I wasn't enough. I wasn't smart enough. Friendly enough. Popular enough. Pretty enough.” you muttered the last two words. 

Spencer started to shake his read, ready to interject, but you raised your free hand to silently stop him. He kept his mouth closed, so you could finish. 

“It became my coping mechanism. When life got to be too much, doing this would calm me. Even after I didn't believe these things about myself.” you gestured to the cluster of words, “It was a release. I stopped for the most part, but I relapse every now and then.” 

“Like an addiction.” Spencer said, more to himself than to you, but you nodded anyway. 

“Kind of.” you nodded. 

Spencer traced your knuckles with his thumb as silence stretched between you too. 

“You are so strong.” he mused. 

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped your throat as you tossed your head over the back of the couch. 

“I’m serious.” he squeezed your hand and pulled it towards him, signaling you to look at him.

You sighed, “If I was strong, I wouldn’t need to do this to feel okay.” 

“But you are working to stop.” he tried to reassure you. 

Your eyes fell to one scar that looked newer. Couldn’t be more than a few months old. He looked down as well.

“We all have moments of weakness.” He looks back up at you, “Do you think I’m strong?” 

You nod as he carefully slips his hand from yours to roll up his own sleeve. You tilt your head in confusion, until you see the old needle marks on the inside of his elbow. 

“A few years ago, I was taken by an unsub. He drugged me with Dilaudid. I got addicted.” 

Your mouth fell open, but you were sure not to speak as he had let you. 

“I struggled with the addiction. And I still do. I still want to escape sometimes. I’ve relapsed too.” He saw the tears in your eyes and he took your hands in his, “But that doesn’t make us any less strong. What makes us strong is that we still choose to quit. No matter how hard it is. We still want to quit. Do you understand me?” 

Tears were filling his eyes too. You nod feverishly as you throw yourself into his arms. He hugged you tightly as you cry onto his chest, his tears dampening your shoulder. 

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed on the couch like that, but you knew that you didn’t have to face your inner demons alone. Spencer thought you were strong. And for him, you would be. 

For yourself you would be.


End file.
